“I—” Harcourt blinks again. “The description of the boys was very specific. And did not include you, Dashiell.” “Lord Lovett,” he says. “I’m sorry?” “Lord Lovett. That’s my name. Lord Dashiell August Richmond Belleview Lovett the Fourth. My father was very particular about me being referred to that way when he dropped me off on the doorstep three years ago. Did he pay for the academy’s roof to be replaced that summer, or was it the one after? I don’t recall.”
